


The Christmas Roast

by Anonymous



Category: The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
Genre: Multi, Public Use, Stocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Many come in and know Scrooge better





	

"Spirit, do not show me this Christmas! I beg you!” Scrooge’s face paled.

“Does this place trouble you? Many have fond memories of it.” As the voice of the Ghost of Christmas past chimed in his ear like a curious child, he grew more desperate.

“It does! Not the Fozziewig Christmas party! Some things are best forgotten!”

Impervious to his pleas, the spirit drifted through the door, and Scrooge was compelled to follow. Inside, they watched as the party unfolded. Musicians prepared to play while Fozziewig employees chattered happily or collected food and drink from a grand table. And in the center of the room, a young man was naked on all fours, arse in the air, immobilized by metal shackles that bolted his wrists and shins to the floor.

“They gave me punch, Spirit. I was never given to drinking until I lost my reason. Oh God, they must have put something in it. I don’t remember how I got there.”

“Listen!” came the reply. “The speech is starting.” 

Old Fozziewig shouted for order. “It is now Christmas Eve, and at Fozziewig and Company we have a little tradition. As a symbol of the generosity of Christmastime, our newest employee will offer himself to our guests and friends for their enjoyment! Only a few of us must remember my own performance all those years ago…”

“We’ve had 30 years to drink to forget!” The Marleys bellowed with laughter and briefly drowned out the speech. But Fozziewig resumed his composure and continued onward, “This Christmas, our guest of honor is Ebenezer Scrooge, one of the finest minds in the city! There is nobody with a brighter future ahead of him. Tonight, dear friends, please show him your appreciation for all he does for us. Hey - here’s Mrs. Fozziewig to start the party. Way to go, Ma!”

“I’m bored with speeches. Hit it, boys!” 

Scrooge turned to his companion as a line formed behind his younger self. “I thought old Fozziewig was soft as a daisy. How could I have known?”

“It was no secret, Ebenezer. Had you talked more with your fellows, you might have known the tradition.”

“Please don’t tell me that, Spirit. This is painful enough.”

The band struck up a jaunty tune as the first man thrust in. Ebenezer watched his own back arch and his arms strain painfully against the manacles. At the time, his pride had prevented him from crying out, at least at first. But as the night wore on, he could not hold his voice back between his clenched teeth as the parade of guests stretched onward. Then, as now, many of them he did not know. During his time at Fozziewig’s, Ebenezer had kept to himself as closely as he could, and the old man wasted money on a dizzying number of largely idle employees. But here and there he saw men he recognized, although at the time he could only discern them by their voices behind his ear. 

The Marleys, from both ends at once, each unceasingly insulting the other’s manhood and technique. Scrooge’s ears burned anew to hear them. Even after they finished, they retired to the benches to chortle as they criticized the other guests as well as Ebenezer’s reactions and the quality of his various orifices. 

Next, the chef, babbling incoherently as he penetrated Ebenezer. Where had Fozziewig even found him? The man himself wasn’t that bad, but Ebenezer would forever be haunted by the muffled sound of singing fruit in his rear. Later, the band’s drummer, a shaggy brute of a fellow, took a break from his performance to wander over, the din of his music giving way to a cacophony of yells as he took his pleasure as violently as a wild beast. By the time it was done, Scrooge was begging for anyone to release him, to help him, as a kindly voice broke into his ear. “You’re doing great, Ebenezer. Can you hear how happy everyone is? This is the most wonderful night of the year.” It was his employer.

“This part wasn’t so bad, was it?” asked the ghost. 

“It was ghastly.” Ebenezer’s voice was soft but fervent. “How could he say those things while buggering me?” He did not add that Fozziewig had been hung like, well, a bear. He never would have believed it of the old man. Instead, he watched powerlessly as the words of praise broke something in him, causing him to weep uncontrollably, barely hearing the Marleys’ renewed jeers.

“Didn’t you enjoy it, though?” The spirit pointed a spectral finger. Ebenezer followed it with his eyes and flinched. He had spent decades trying not to remember, trying not to ask himself why he had been so hard for so much of the ordeal. Watching his cock standing almost up to his own belly, he felt to his horror the same mixture of humiliation, guilt and inexplicable arousal that he had back then. It wasn’t that the depredations of the guests had felt good. His ass had burned, and the feeling of the gazes of the guests on his skin was even worse. At the time, he had barely noticed the heat in his groin until…

“Take me away, Spirit! I can’t watch the last.” 

“You must. Hush, Ebenezer. We are just coming to the best part.”

This time, Ebenezer knew it was coming. That charming voice, instantly recognized although he had only that day heard it for the first time. “Ebenezer, you really must relax. This is no night for weeping.” Belle’s hand wrapped around his cock and gave a friendly squeeze. “Hasn’t anyone given you a present before?” Disembodied, Ebenezer could now see that she had slid a large peppermint stick into him with one hand while stroking his manhood with the other. Unbidden, his own hand strayed toward his crotch as he watched himself gasp from the unexpected stimulation. He knew full well how this had humiliated him most of all, especially after he had tried to impress her with his business acumen earlier that very night. She must have watched him be disgraced by every man in the company. And now here she was, thrusting her sweet into his behind while assuring him that it was all right, once a year, to let a friend help him out. 

It was finished quickly. Scrooge was overcome, his past and present selves converging as they came, tears falling onto the floor along with his seed as his vision faded to black. 

Scrooge awoke with a gasp in his own bed. His sheets were soaked with sweat, and worse. As he desperately attempted to hide them before the next ghost could arrive, his body betrayed him in its continued arousal. Just what would the Ghost of Christmas Present do to him?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Original Male Dog for beta work.


End file.
